Tougher in Texas

by Kari Lynn Dell

  “Cole—”

  “Don’t try to tell me it doesn’t matter.” He wadded up the rope and slung it in the general direction of the tack room. “I’ve heard Tori talk. You rope to win, not just show up.”

  Shawnee paused, knowing she needed to tread carefully. Not exactly at the top of her skill set. She listened instead—to the times being announced while Cole yanked his saddle off and slammed it onto the rack so hard it almost went through the wall. Finally, she said, “You did rope to win.”

  Cole made a noise packed so full of disgust it practically turned the air purple.

  “Quit your tantruming and pay attention.”

  “I am not—”

  “Oh please. You’re two seconds away from throwing yourself on the ground and holding your breath until you turn blue.” Shawnee pointed at the nearest loudspeaker, now droning out the final results of the roping. “Listen to the placings.”

  Cole scowled, but listened, then punched a frustrated fist into the other palm. “If I’d caught, we would’ve won third or fourth.”

  “Assuming I caught two feet.”

  He glared at her. “You never miss.”

  She laughed outright. “If only. Then I’d be a legend in something other than my own mind.” She hitched her thumbs in his belt loops and dragged him close, wishing she had a bucket to stand on so she could glare straight into those stony blue eyes. She gave him a shake instead. “You threw to win. Gave it your best shot. That’s what matters. I know how hard this was for you, and I really appreciate it. If you hadn’t gutted it out, I wouldn’t have been able to rope at all.”

  He shook his head, jaw set, rejecting every word.

  Shawnee sighed. “How long do you intend to mope about this?”

  “Forever.”

  She laughed again, then realized he wasn’t joking.

  “I can list every steer I ever missed for Xander at a rodeo,” he said, his voice flat. “And every free throw in basketball in high school. This is why I don’t play team games. I don’t forget anything.”

  She had to blink a few times to take it in. “What about the good runs? The shots you made? Do you remember those?”

  “Well…yeah.”

  “But you focus on the mistakes.”

  “I can’t help—”

  She wanted to call bullshit—would’ve if it had been anyone else—but Cole’s brain didn’t work like other brains, so maybe he couldn’t stop himself from obsessing. Either way, he’d known this day would be torture and he’d come with her anyway. Her heart did a complicated, slightly terrifying whirl and swoop. This man. This strange, wonderful, maddening man.

  What the hell was she going to do with him?

  She shied away from the question and kissed his chin instead. “You realize this leaves me no choice.”

  “Except?” he asked, worry puckering his brows.

  “I’ll just have to blow your mind so hard tonight you can’t even remember your name, let alone some stupid team roping.”

  He had to grin at that.

  And the next morning, when she strolled into the rodeo arena, she found Joe once again behind the wheel of the ATV and Cole on Salty, looking grim but determined.

  “Your sentence as my partner has been served,” she said.

  Cole got busy building the perfect loop. “There could be another roping next week. Or…after.”

  Her heart felt as if it stopped—one second, two, three—while she stared at him stupidly. Was he insane? He’d suffered through every minute of the roping, and had admitted he would continue to suffer indefinitely from the aftereffects. No reasonable human being would put himself through that again. And again. And again. As many times as she asked.

  But this wasn’t a reasonable man. This was Cole. And he was talking about after.

  I didn’t fall for you because you’re pretty.

  It was possibly the most romantic thing a man had ever said—at least as far as she was concerned. Cole didn’t care about the surface. He had seen her sweaty, dusty, covered in horse puke, blood, and manure, an emotional disaster. He’d even had to deal with Ace. And he kept coming after her anyway.

  What woman didn’t dream of a man who loved her from the inside out?

  Love. Shawnee clamped down on her quivering heart. She had to be the strong one here. Realistic. Nothing had changed. She would have to walk away, the way she always had before. Because—dammit—she probably did love the big galoot, and he deserved so much more.

  “You don’t want to do this,” she said, jerking her head toward the roping dummy, but thinking of that after.

  His face went stony, but his eyes…God, the sheer determination in his eyes was going to kill her. “Yes, I do.”

  One more week. Seven days. Then she would have to tell him why he was wrong. Why she was wrong. She could make a list. He liked lists.

  He wouldn’t like hers.

  But she deserved something, too. Even if it was only a lousy week of pretending she could be the woman that a man—this man—could want for all of his afters.

  “Okay. Let’s rope.” She turned to flip the reins over Roy’s head, pausing to blink away the prickling heat in her eyes. “Just remember, I warned you.”

  As if that was going to do either of them any good.

  Chapter 37

  Cole leaned against the hood of his pickup at a desolate municipal airport and watched a sleek twin engine Cessna execute a butter-smooth landing and taxi toward him. Joe had flown home as soon as the previous rodeo ended. Now Wyatt was flying him back for the Thursday performance of their last summer rodeo.

  Unlike the old days, the end of the regular season didn’t mean they would be parked at the ranch until after the first of the year. Jacobs horses and bulls had been selected for no less than four big invitational rodeos in the next two months and at least a dozen head were a shoe-in for the National Finals in December. They’d come a very long way, and Violet and Joe weren’t close to satisfied.

  But standing here, nearly at the end of his sentence as sole custodian of this branch of Jacobs Livestock, Cole realized he no longer dreaded the idea of constant change. He’d shown everyone he could handle it. Himself most of all.

  Before the plane came to a full stop, Cole saw a flurry of activity in the cabin. The instant the props went still, the door flew open and a small body leapt out and hit the pavement running.

  “Beni!” Cole crouched and opened his arms.

  Violet’s son barreled into him with enough force to almost bowl him over. He got a nanosecond of full body contact and a whiff of boy scent before Beni remembered he was ten now, and too cool for hugs.

  He wriggled loose and punched Cole in the arm, instead. “Hey, dude.”

  “Dude?” Cole’s eyebrows shot up at the skater drawl.

  “He has discovered the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles,” Joe said, with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

  Beni scowled. “Mama banned them for a whole month after I told Mrs. Domingo to chillax when she yelled at me for running in the hall.”

  Cole stood, smothering a grin as he imagined the cheery little principal trying to scold Beni while keeping a straight face. The kid had been a constant challenge and source of entertainment at Earnest Elementary since the first day he was dragged through the front door. “Why aren’t you in school?”

  “They said I could afford to take a couple of days off.”

  Translation: Beni was so far ahead of his class the teachers struggled to keep him occupied. And the whole staff could probably use a break.

  Cole mussed his inky black hair. “How come we get stuck with you?”

  Joe tossed their bags into the back of the pickup. His duffel had a Justin Boots logo. Joe never bought anything that he might get free from a sponsor. Beni’s hard-sided carry-on was covered in cartoon stickers in vari
ous stages of disintegration, charting his course from the PAW Patrol through Phineas and Ferb to his current Turtle obsession.

  “Delon’s riding in Omaha this weekend,” Joe said, in answer to Cole’s question. “Tori has a continuing education seminar in Seattle, and Lily says she has her hands full just trying to keep Violet in line.”

  “And I haven’t seen you for, like, months! Or Katie.” Beni dropped to his knees to fling his arms around the dog. She gritted her teeth and tolerated the attack. Beni was on his feet again in an instant, dancing circles around Cole and tugging at his sleeve. “I brought my Jacobs Livestock shirt. Can I help the rodeo queens chase steers and stuff out of the arena?”

  “We’ll have to check with the committee.” But Cole already knew the answer. Beni had inherited his father’s striking Navajo good looks and his irresistible smile. Like Delon, he knew how to use them.

  Wyatt had made his usual circle around the plane, doing a quick visual inspection. Now he strolled over to join them, walking without any sign of a limp, a major accomplishment this late in the season. This summer’s limited schedule appeared to agree with him as much as it did Joe. Today he looked like an endorsement for silver spoons, wearing pale-green shorts, a matching plaid sport shirt, and canvas sneakers with no socks and a price tag that would no doubt send Cole into cardiac arrest.

  He and Cole exchanged a quick, hard handshake and shoulder slaps. “You’re looking pretty pleased with life, considering. I figured you’d have a few bald spots, or gray hair at least.”

  Cole ran a hand over his head. “Not for lack of trying.”

  But the past two weeks had been as good as any he’d spent on the rodeo circuit. Better. He roped every morning with Shawnee, relaxing enough to enjoy himself when there was no competition looming over his head. He loved watching the way she worked with her horses. How Sooner improved day by day.

  Every evening they were in the arena, galloping through the barely controlled chaos. And every night…he stuffed his hands in his pockets and fought off a grin. Yep. It had been a really good two weeks.

  He dragged his mind back to the present and found Wyatt watching him in that intense, off-putting way, as if his laser-blue gaze could carve a hole in Cole’s skull and see his thoughts. If so, Wyatt was getting an eyeful. Heat rose under Cole’s skin at the idea of anyone viewing that particular slide show.

  “So…who are my bullfighters going to be next year?” he asked.

  Wyatt cocked his head, eyebrows climbing. “I expected more resistance.”

  “Doesn’t do me any good,” Cole said. “I’m surprised you let Joe have these rodeos instead of dumping another one of your teacher’s pets on us.”

  “He was gonna,” Beni piped up. “But Mommy said Joe better get out of the house because if he didn’t quit makin’ a fuss every time she got up to pee, he was gonna be the one who needed bed rest.”

  Joe scowled. “I caught her cleaning the toilet. And folding towels.”

  “Shame on her,” Cole said dryly.

  “You’ve changed over the summer,” Wyatt said, still eyeing Cole closely.

  “I’ve been practicing my coping skills.” Whether he wanted to or not. “Besides, the only bullfighter you’ve ever sent that caused any trouble was Joe, and we got him lined out pretty quick.”

  Wyatt laughed, but under the surface the wheels were spinning. He seemed to approve of whatever he saw, though Cole got the distinct impression he was also amused. Or just happy he had guaranteed jobs for at least two of his prize pupils. You could never tell with Wyatt. Tori claimed he always operated on at least three levels of intention. Cole wasn’t even sure what that meant.

  “Got any prospects for your next pickup man?” Wyatt asked.

  Joe shot him a look even Cole could interpret. Shut. Up. “We’re waiting until we all get home to discuss next year.”

  “Violet will be back by March, at the latest,” Cole said, letting his inflection turn it into a question.

  “The doctor said even if she has to have a C-section, she’ll be able to ride by February,” Joe agreed. But there was something in his voice…and for once it wasn’t Cole dodging eye contact.

  Then it hit him.

  Violet wasn’t coming back. Not as a pickup man. He should have seen it coming—the business end of things had been running her ragged before she tossed a new baby into the mix. But the promise that he only had to survive this one season alone had been his lifeline, and he’d clung to it like a barnacle. Until recently.

  He tamped down another grin, keeping his face blank. “If she’s got too much on her plate, Shawnee might be willing to stay on.”

  Something flashed between Joe and Wyatt, too quick and subtle for Cole to catch. “Maybe,” Joe agreed, a few beats too late.

  They all shuffled around, trying to kick dust over the awkward moment, but as they waved Wyatt off on his way to Omaha and climbed into the pickup, Cole couldn’t help fretting at Joe’s lack of enthusiasm. Because they didn’t want to keep Shawnee—and why the hell not?—or didn’t think they could?

  Didn’t think Cole could.

  Back at the rodeo grounds, she was lounging in the shade of her awning, looking round and lush in a tank top and shorts as she waited for Cole to come back so they could run downtown and buy groceries for the last crew dinner of the season.

  When Beni ejected from the backseat, she tipped her sunglasses down to scowl at him. “Oh geezus. What did we do to deserve this?”

  Beni stuck his tongue out. Shawnee returned the gesture, once again making that little brown-haired girl dance through Cole’s head, bursting with mischief. He let out a breath and smiled at Shawnee. She smiled back, making his blood go hot. See? He wasn’t crazy. She loved being a pickup man. And there was a possibility, judging by the way he caught her watching him sometimes, that she might love Cole, too.

  Stranger things had happened, right?

  “I’m here to work,” Beni declared. “I’m gonna help clear the arena during the timed events.”

  Shawnee’s brows peaked. “Are you, now? I suppose you could use a good cow horse, then. And Roy is just standing around bored.”

  “Your buckskin?” Beni’s eyes went round, his voice reverent. He’d been begging Violet for a horse like Roy since the first time he’d laid eyes on the line-back dun, with his golden coat and jet-black mane.

  “If you promise not to teach him any bad habits.”

  “No, ma’am!” Beni jittered in place, then shot off toward the horse pens. “I gotta go tell him!”

  “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled,” Shawnee drawled. But she couldn’t completely squelch her smile.

  “Thanks,” Joe said.

  She shrugged. “Like I said, Roy’s bored.”

  And Shawnee was a lot more generous than she liked to let on. Cole sauntered over and kissed her on the top of the head. She swatted him. He grinned.

  Tomorrow night, after the last performance of this last rodeo on her contract, he’d pop the question. Will you stay? Be my partner indefinitely? He had his speech memorized, and now he could argue that they needed her to replace Violet long-term. She had to say yes, he’d tell her. Who else could put up with him?

  That would make her laugh. He knew better than to get mushy, or even hint at love or marriage or kids this early in the game. But they were good together in the arena. Why break up a great team?

  Logic was his secret weapon. And her hidden weakness.

  For all that she mocked his schedule, Shawnee liked routines, and she had a strict personal code of conduct, even if it didn’t always line up with what polite society dictated. Yes, she was explosive and confrontational and occasionally obscene, but never random. After all these weeks, Cole could anticipate almost without fail what would set her off. Like him, she had zero tolerance for fools and incompetence. While he retreated behind his shell, Shawne
e blew up, a volcano of blistering sarcasm.

  But pity the fools who stood in either of their paths.

  So he’d keep his fantasies to himself and appeal to her practical side. If he could buy enough time, he could keep just being there until she couldn’t imagine life without him. He’d sketched it out, how they could arrange the schedule so she had plenty of chances to go roping between and during rodeos, and he would find a way to conquer his nerves and be the partner she deserved whenever she needed him.

  His gut clenched in anticipation. Tomorrow night. He had it all planned. As soon as the rodeo was over, he’d go knock on her door with her favorite pizza and her favorite beer and show her all the reasons staying with Jacobs Livestock made perfect sense.

  Chapter 38

  Cole dropped a bunch of kale into the shopping cart, wrinkling his nose. “No wonder those things you drink look so disgusting.”

  “But that’s where I get my superhuman sex drive.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You should try it.”

  He snorted like one of his stud horses. “I’m keepin’ up just fine, thanks.”

  Yes. Yes, he was. The memory of just how well gave her a hot flash, even standing in the chilly produce aisle. She’d been playing a dangerous game of house with him—sleeping, shopping, eating dinner together every evening like a real couple. Inviting Joe—and now Beni—to share their meals should have made it less intimate. Instead, she had drawn Cole’s family circle more tightly around her.

  And it was a frighteningly comfortable fit.

  Talk was easy—of horses and bulls, the best and worst rides of the night before, how the coming night’s cowboys would match up with the stock they’d drawn. There were friendly bets on which bareback rider would have the high score, how many jumps past the end of the gate before Master Assassin drilled the poor fool who’d drawn him.